The Physical Evidence

The Physical Evidence

It was all very surreal. At the time which the physical evidence was found, everything I assumed about the impossibility of the situation vaporized. A few of my fellow counselors had found tangible objects which dramatically changed the tides of the situation.

At first, it was the pens.

Does the name ‘Timken Aerospace’ mean anything to you?

I didn’t think so. It meant nothing to me, so imagine my surprise when Sherman seemed nervously excited about the findings.

Timken Aerospace is a company which specializes in the creation of not only microscopic ball bearings, but also has the resources and connections to build things like the magnificent “Hadron Collider.” This multi-billion dollar device could be capable--in theory of course—of pioneering research into the field of theoretical physics; looking into the possibilities of antimatter creation and containment, subatomic particles without mass, and the eventual proving or disproving of the String Theory.

That last topic could possibly even prove or refute the very idea of time travel.

There wasn’t just one pen. There were a few, scattered about the office and lounge where I worked.

It was a strange thing indeed. Imagine not only my phone changing its configuration to a specific time and place of political significance, but now finding evidence in my proximity of a company’s involvement which might someday be tied to the discovery of time travel. It was almost too easy to dismiss as coincidence, until I heard the next bit.

The nearest branch of this mysterious corporation was almost a thousand miles away, in Canton, Ohio.

Why were their pens showing up in numbers at my place of employment? Was there some physical connection that maybe caused a representative or some other such person to bring them to the office, or maybe an acquaintance who had? I couldn’t really imagine why they would be here, but felt that any possible connection could be somewhat dismissed, however rashly, from the realm of probability.

On the other hand, my phone thought it was January 2005, that I was in Abu Dhabi, and now pens were showing up from a company nowhere near me that was at this moment in the present embarking on a quest to eventually command a means to manipulate time. Something massive could very well be in motion, and a part of my consciousness was ordering me to take a closer look.

At this time, something significant could be happening, perhaps someone in the future centering their efforts on this moment in my existence in an effort to change something. It enthralled me.

The significance of the past two weeks or even the next few days could possibly hold the fate of humanity within its grasp.

Little did I know, I was about to find out why.

Next Chapter -- Business and Politics

The First Stages of Research

The First Stages of Research

The first person I told was my fellow counselor, “Sherman.” It wasn’t his first name, but that’s what I always called him. As the counselor most directly above me in rank, Sherman’s optimism and logical thinking were attributes only out shadowed by his vast intelligence. I only shared my phone’s recent wetting of the proverbial bed with him at first because it was fascinating to me.

There were many other reasons why I should have told him what was happening to my poor phone, whether being his appropriately customized major in “Quantum Mysticism,” (which I found was a comprehensive study of random occurrences, linking theories, and seeming impossibilities, just to name a few), his natural inquisitiveness and willingness to question, or even his ability to make logical correlations between seemingly random events.

I continued to show him my findings for none of these reasons. I kept him informed because he was willing to listen. More importantly, he believed me.

He agreed to look into the dates of January 3^rd, 2005 through January 6^th, 2005 and then check what happened at those times in the Middle East. Honestly, I expected nothing.

At this point, most of the other counselors knew what was happening to my phone. Most of them were willing to joke about it, saying that “New Student Orienting” was making me a bit crazy, making me reprogram my phone in semi-sleep trances. It was easy to laugh at.

I went about my duties, escorting new students to writing and language exams, giving tours of the campus, answering questions. I thought nothing of the entire situation until staff meeting that evening, when Sherman and the other counselors who lived in my hall for the summer would meet and go over the results of our day’s assignments.

When I met with Sherman, he told me about what he had found. On those dates, four major political activists and politicians--all connected individuals--were consecutively assassinated in the vicinity of Abu Dhabi.

Coincidence, obviously. It was a fun fact for me, nothing more. That must have been it after all, because surely my phone didn’t pick a specific set of dates in a certain concentrated region where major specific assassinations had taken place. How could it? With our current world politics, I wasn’t surprised that people had been assassinated on any given day. It prompted little from me.

My questions were multiplied when the next clue came out of nowhere. Sherman and several of the other counselors had found something tangible which brought my streak of skepticism to a screeching halt.

When I found out what it was and why it was significant, I became frightened. The dynamic of my situation was about to change drastically.

Next Week -- The Physical Evidence

The First Clues

The First Clues

In the last week of June in the year 2008, I began to notice several things that struck me as somewhat unusual. The nature of these disturbances in my day-to-day life was easily disregarded, yet something inside me knew better than to gloss it all over.

It started with my cellular phone. When scheduling reminders for myself with the calendar function in my Finnish Nokia telephone as I always did, I noticed a few peculiar quirks with each passing day. I wasn’t sure when exactly it began to do this, but my first red flag began waving around the beginning of July, roughly two weeks before I began writing this. I discovered that my phone began consistently reverting back to the date of January 3^rd, 2005.

Over the next several days, my phone ceased showing me any dates before January 3^rd, 2005, and any dates after January 6^th, 2005. These four days seemed to me to be a curious choice by my phone’s software.

This became problematic, because I found myself having to scroll forward towards the correct date, three years and six months later. I found it not only odd, but frustrating how my phone began insisting out of nowhere that the current date was over three years ago. This struck me as strange indeed, but inconvenient more than anything else.

The next thing that changed was even more peculiar. I began to notice a rather alarming deviance whenever I set my phone’s clock alarm each night for 6:00 AM the next morning. My phone had informed me on the clock control screen that the current time zone was set to Abu Dhabi, a city in the United Arab Emirates. Although not quite sure how this happened, I speculated at the time that my old phone was finally kicking the bucket one transistor at a time. My skepticism and tendency to lean on logic was what guided my thoughts at this time, subtly asserting me that this was all just a stroke of bad luck. It was about time I got myself a new phone anyway.

After all, it was a boxy-looking Nokia 6682, worn around the edges from too many clumsy drops. The buttons were eroding, the oil from my fingers finally having rubbed most of the recognition away from the number buttons. Now, after several years of faithful service my phone decided to go mental. Three years ago? Abu Dhabi? What’s next, the battery sprouting legs and escaping from the back panel?

Not exactly. What I discovered soon afterwards was much more disturbing.

Next Chapter -- The First Stages of Research

A Brief Background

Background

My name is Devon. I am 22 years old, and a recent graduate of my state university. I am from Worcester, a city that is large enough to hide the faces and identities of those who wish to remain insignificant, but small enough for one soul to stand out brilliantly against the bustling backdrop. Characterized by a diverse population of about few hundred thousand people and prided for its compliment of three-decker houses, Worcester is a place where there is either always something to do, or nothing to do at all.

I had always wanted to do something great, but had never had any idea what that could ever be. Until recently, I assumed that my life would follow some natural course, taking me along a path where I would ultimately find my calling, step into a role in the human rat race, and become part of a system where everyone seeks to do the same thing; to get by.

I spent this summer as well as the last summer working at my university, helping each new class of incoming freshmen become acclimated with the college life and atmosphere as well as showing them around the campus. I’ve spent my days helping them pick courses, and engaging them in personal conversation over lunches and dinners, listening to their fears, anxieties or apathies. I’ve helped to instill many students with excitement and anticipation, or at the very least given my own best allegories and bits of advice to help each of them on their way to a new life.

I’ve found it all incredibly fulfilling. I enjoy helping students embrace the very opportunities that I have had. I enjoy answering their questions, I look forward to learning about each individual newcomer to the university, and I feel that my database of knowledge has only amplified the general anticipation that each group has had about their very near futures at college.

It is this job that showed me where my life will end.

Next -- The First Clues

The Memoir Begins...

An Introduction

This is my story. What you’re about to read is unfolding as I write this very sentence, and I am as surprised and as dumbfounded as any of you would be if this were happening to you. The past two weeks have culminated in unbelievable coincidence and apparent impossibilities, leaving me to wonder countless ponderings about my destiny. The clues I have stumbled upon and written about here are quite real, leading and inspiring me to write this text as a conjecture about my role in the future of mankind.

I believe that I will be responsible for several disturbances in the space-time continuum, as well as several politically-motivated assassinations in the Middle East. I believe that an amalgam of me in the future will be capable of time travel, and will use this ability to communicate several messages with me in the past and present, in an effort to either warn me or inform me of something that may change the universe as we know it.

This period in time is a significant target for my future self to interact with for many reasons, and I believe that that is why I must write this memoir. If anything should happen to me in the near future, whether it be my untimely death or perhaps my disappearance, it will mean that I was correct, and that this text will validate everything we have theorized about time travel, quantum mechanics, and theoretical physics up until this point. It is for these reasons that I must record my findings, so that my existence and future can be chronicled and affirmed.

You are invited to use my discoveries in this recording to develop your own theories of what might have happened. I can only speculate what the reasons for these events may be, and you must take it upon good faith that I postulate my reasons for these occurrences with a sincere heart and a concern for what my future and the future of all of humanity may hold in store. I invite you to do the same.

Next Week - A Brief Background

Milk Goes Bad

I'm sitting here and staring at the White Russian I made myself over 3 hours ago. It's not bad yet, but I imagine it will be soon. Drinking out of necessity has made me quite contemplative at this time. Three o'clock in the morning could do that to anyone, regardless.

So I wonder.

Do you ever feel like there's something out there that you have to accomplish?

It hit me over the past two weeks. Hard. I have to write a memoir.

I'm only 22, but I'm convinced that through evidence both physical and electronic that I am in the future capable of time travel....

...and murder. I am planning on detailing how this is possible in later entries. Follow along for more.

Next week - A Beginning